


Is This Seat Taken? Only By My Delusions

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Deputy Derek, Established Relationship, Hallucinations, M/M, Prescription Drug Use, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6616354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unknown werewolf and his mate move to Beacon Hills and the McCall pack isn’t sure what to expect from them. They discover that while Derek isn’t a problem, Stiles might be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is This Seat Taken? Only By My Delusions

_BEFORE_

“Hey. Could I sit with you? There’s nowhere else.”

Derek glanced up and looked around the nearly empty diner, before turning to the speaker with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, there is, but that makes a way better getting together story than ‘I accosted you in a diner at three in the morning,’” the man said with a grin. He was tall and slender, with brown hair and wide eyes. “So, can I sit down?”

Derek stared at him a moment longer, then nodded.

“Yes!” The guy whispered triumphantly, fingers clenching in a miniature fistpump. He slid into the booth across from Derek and held out his hand. “I’m Stiles.”

“Derek,” he responded, taking the hand.

“What’s your excuse for being out so late?” Stiles asked.

“I’m a cop,” Derek said. “Night shifts messed up my sleep schedule. You?”

“I get around,” Stiles said with a wink. “Hey, wanna play I Spy?”

The waitress took their orders, and they continued talking. When the food came, Derek let Stiles steal some of his fries, even though he’d ordered his own. 

Stiles turned out to be right. Their getting together story was perfect.

***

_NOW_

“What’s he like?” Scott asked.

Allison rolled her eyes and switched her phone to the other ear. “I don’t know yet, Scott. He just got here.”

“Can he hear you right now?” Scott whispered. “Is he nearby?”

Allison held her head in her hands. She loved her husband dearly, but he was an idiot sometimes. “He can’t right now, but he might walk in soon, which is why I said I’d call you later. The Sheriff is showing him around right now.”

As if on cue, the Sheriff walked into the bullpen, gesturing the new deputy along. “Your desk will be over here. We don’t rotate or anything, so feel free to personalize.”

The deputy nodded seriously and tapped his nameplate on the desk two spots away from Allison’s. 

“We’re a small group, but you knew that when you applied. You’ll get to know everyone soon enough, but let’s see who’s here,” the Sheriff zeroed in on Allison. “This is Deputy Allison Argent-McCall. She’s been with the department for a few years now. Allison, this is our new deputy, Derek Hale.” The Sheriff introduced him as if the whole station hadn’t been talking about him for weeks.

“Nice to meet you,” Allison said, offering her hand and watching the subtle flare of Derek’s nostrils. “If you have any questions, I’m happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Derek said, quietly.

“Thank you, Allison,” the Sheriff said, much louder, then he herded Derek towards Deputy Graeme, then Deputy Greenberg. Greenberg almost spilled coffee all over Derek in his haste to greet him, and the Sheriff whisked him from the room quickly.

Allison put her phone back up to her ear. “Scott?”

Allison rolled her eyes again. She knew for a fact that Scott had heard every word. It wasn’t like there were any other new deputies, and the Sheriff had even said Hale’s name. “Yes, Scott. That was him.”

“What was he like? Did he seem nice? Do you think he’ll cause any trouble?”

“I only met him for a minute. He seemed quiet, but he didn’t have long to say much,” Allison said, then she hesitated. “I don’t know Scott. He’s a cop, for goodness sake. He shouldn’t be here to cause trouble, but it’s hard to tell when he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“It’s not like he has to, unless he wants to join the pack. But I wish he would. I wish they all would,” Scott said. He was a good alpha, but it was hard to protect a territory that attracted so many supernaturals. A new werewolf in town, who’d made no overtures toward the pack, could be trouble. 

“He’s probably just getting settled in,” Allison offered. She hoped so anyway.

***

Deputy Parrish sat down on Allison’s desk, and whispered conspiratorially, “Guess who I got partnered with?”

“Greenberg?” Allison said blankly, continuing to type her report.

“No,” Parrish said, horrified at the prospect. “Hale.”

Allison stopped typing to give him her full attention. “Oh?”

“He seems okay so far. By the book, a little quiet.” Allison could tell he was working up to something, so she waited him out. “He put in an odd request to dispatch though. Wants to be notified if anything comes up involving a caucasian male in red with brown hair.”

“Why?” Allison asked with a frown.

Parrish shrugged. “No clue.” He hopped off her desk when he heard the Sheriff approaching and Allison got back to her report, tucking the information in the back of her mind to consider later.

***

Scott passed the carrots he’d just peeled to Boyd, and Erica announced from her perch on the counter, “Hale came into the diner.”

“What?” Scott exclaimed. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?” Scott tried to see his pack as often as possible, but it’d been a few days since they’d all gotten together like this.

Erica rolled her eyes. “It only happened yesterday, relax.” She crossed her legs and settled in to give a detailed gossip report. “He came in with a cute guy, who he kept calling ‘Stiles,’ and they both ordered burgers with fries. They played ‘I Spy’ while they were waiting. Stiles ate half of Hale’s fries, as well as his own, and then Hale got apple pie and Stiles got Key Lime. He said it was the best pie he’d ever had. Practically raved about it.”

“It is really good pie,” Scott said, smiling at Boyd. Boyd was pretty humble, but they all knew he was the best cook in Beacon Hills.

“Hale just smiled at him while he went on about it,” Erica said. “It was kinda cute, actually.”

“So, he didn’t seem threatening or anything?” Scott asked.

“Nah.” Erica shrugged. “Just a guy on a date. He obviously knew I was a wolf, but he didn’t seem like he cared.”

“Weird,” Scott said. Even if he didn’t want to join the pack, Scott would think he’d at least acknowledge them as fellow wolves.

“They held hands,” Boyd said.

“Hmm?” Boyd didn’t talk a lot, so Scott tried to pay attention when he did.

“They held hands in the parking lot. ‘S cute,” Boyd elaborated. And that was all he had to say on the matter.

***

“Good job out there,” Parrish said. Derek smiled in return. He liked Parrish, and he’d been infinitely helpful in acclimating Derek to the small town police force in his first two weeks. 

He got distracted from Parrish’s response by an achingly familiar heartbeat. It was buried under the rhythmic thumping of feet and a steady stream of words. “Excuse me,” Derek said to Parrish and he rushed toward the collection of desks.

Sure enough, Stiles was perched on top of Derek’s desk, swinging his feet against it like a kid, gesturing wildly as he spoke. 

To the Sheriff. Derek’s new boss, the Sheriff.

He walked over quickly and called out, “Stiles.”

 

Stiles turned and his face lit up. “Hey, it’s you!”

“Hi,” Derek said. “What brought you in here?”

Stiles frowned at him for a moment, then his expression went back to pleased. “Oh, right! I made cookies, but you weren’t home. So I brought you some, since they were warm.” He turned to the Sheriff and explained seriously, “Warm cookies are the best and I didn’t want him to miss them.”

“Of course,” The Sheriff said easily. “What kind did you make?”

Stiles grabbed a tupperware from its spot on the desk behind him and opened it quickly. “Snickerdoodle.” He hopped off the desk, shoved the container of cookies into Derek’s hands and pecked him on the cheek. “Gotta go.” 

“Nice to meet you, Stiles,” the Sheriff said. 

Stiles waved over his shoulder. “Watch out for those pixies, Sheriff!”

Derek’s face heated in embarrassment as he and the Sheriff watched him go. He turned to his boss slowly, expecting annoyance or pity and not sure which one would be worse. Instead, the Sheriff met his gaze with understanding.

“My wife had frontotemporal dementia,” he said, softly.

Derek shook his head. “They haven’t been able to find a real diagnosis. He does okay, though.”

The Sheriff clapped him on the back and nodded. “He seems like he would.” He walked over to the deputy waiting at his office and Derek sat down at his desk with his cookies. He ate one slowly while staring at the picture on his desk of him and Stiles at the diner where they’d first met.

When the cookie was finished, he brushed away his sadness with the crumbs and got to work.

***

Isaac was minding his own business, happily ensconced on a bench and eating his sandwich. He had twenty minutes left of his lunch break, and he intended to use them well. ‘Well’ did not mean dealing with the guy who’d just sat next to him. He reeked of an unfamiliar werewolf, and Isaac felt the hair on the back of his neck raise. 

Isaac slid a little farther away from the guy, but he didn’t take a hint, leaning over and catching Isaac’s eye.

“Are you a wolf?” He asked, plainly. He didn’t whisper it or anything, just asked in the middle of a park, in broad daylight, if Isaac was a freaking werewolf.

“I...Uh…” He sputtered. “Why would you think that?”

The guy sat back and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you know.”

Isaac didn’t know. He had no idea, and the guy didn’t elaborate. He just started whistling and scuffing his feet in the dirt beneath the bench. Abruptly, he stood from the bench and said, “Nice meeting you, Wolf-dude.” Then he walked away. 

“What the hell was that?” Isaac said to himself. He shoved the last of his sandwich into his mouth and called Scott to tell him what happened. He didn’t think the guy was a threat, but better safe than sorry.

*** 

Stiles managed to go almost two months without getting into enough trouble to involve the police. It was a lot better than he’d managed in San Francisco, so Derek tried not to be upset when he pulled up to the community square and jumped out of the cruiser. The citizens of Beacon Hills were a lot more likely to frown at him with concern and call Derek directly instead of hollering for the nearest cop like people did in the city. But this was different from messing around in their neighborhood. 

Parrish followed close behind him as they approached Deputy Argent-McCall and her partner.

Stiles popped up from his seat on the fountain wall and said, “Oh, hey, it’s you!” Like he was tickled that Derek was here for the fun instead of to prevent his co-worker from arresting him.

“Hey,” Derek said, quickly looking for any injuries. “Why are you all wet?”

Stiles blinked down at his dripping clothing and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you know, kelpies. They can be so damn bitchy sometimes.”

Derek tried to subtly sniff the air while eyeing the water of the fountain.

“Mr. Stilinski. As I was explaining, you can’t just jump into a public fountain,” Argent-McCall said. 

Stiles grinned at her. “Can I jump into a private fountain?”

“Stiles,” Derek chided.

Stiles frowned at him. “I didn’t jump in, Derek. I got pulled in. Forcefully. Look, I hurt my finger.” He held out his hand for Derek’s inspection. Derek didn’t see anything, so he just took Stiles’ hand in his and sighed.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Derek asked the other deputies.

“No, they were just concerned,” Allison said.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Derek said, for the thousandth time since this all began.

Allison frowned at both of them, then sighed. “Look, I’m giving you a warning. No more fountains, okay? If it happens again, I’ll have to give you a fine.”

“Great, no problem,” Stiles said. “Obviously I’ll be avoiding this one, now that I know there’s a kelpie living here.” He rolled his eyes a bit and glared at the fountain.

“Thank you,” Derek said hastily, and started tugging Stiles away. “Come on, let's get you home.”

Parrish took the wheel and Derek sat in the back with Stiles for the drive home. Stiles sat quietly for a moment, then said softly. “You didn’t find any sign of it. The kelpie.”

“No,” Derek admitted.

Stiles nodded, and his shoulders slumped. Derek put his arm around him and they sat in silence for the rest of the trip.

***

Allison put her service revolver in her gun safe and started stripping her uniform. “They’ve only been here four months and I’ve had five callouts involving him.”

Scott hummed sympathetically.

“We were so worried about a new werewolf in town, I never thought he’d bring a human hoodlum with him. Hale is a good cop, but his boyfriend keeps doing the weirdest things. He got stuck in a tree today, Scott! Mrs. Henderson called the fire department, like he was a freaking cat!”

Scott snorted, then quickly schooled his features when she leveled him with a glare. “You know what he said when we got him down? He said he was trying to talk to a tree nymph, but she disappeared when he got to the top.”

“Why would a tree nymph hang out in Mrs. Henderson’s front yard when she could be in the preserve?” Scott asked, squinting his eyes in confusion.

Allison threw her pants at his head. “Probably because there was no tree nymph, Scott! There never is! No tree nymph this time, no goblin last time, and no leprechaun the time before that!” Allison sighed. “I even had Isaac come over and check, but there was nothing, Scott.”

“You think he’s making it up?” Scott asked.

Allison shook her head. “No. I think he really believes that it’s happening. The thing is...he lives with a werewolf. We can’t just tell him they aren’t real, because they are! How do you convince him what’s reality and what’s not when any of these things could come out of the forest and say hello?”

“Do you think he knows Hale is a werewolf?” Scott asked.

“He must,” Allison insisted. “He guessed Isaac was, didn’t he?”

“Erica likes him. They come to the diner at least once a week, and he’s always really nice,” Scott said. “And they seem happy together.”

Allison crawled into the bed beside Scott and he hugged her. “I don’t want to be the bad guy that has to arrest him. Shouldn’t he be seeing a doctor or something?”

“Maybe he is,” Scott pointed out. “They only just moved here.”

***

One of the main things Derek liked about their new house was the window seat in the living room. He rarely sat there himself, but Stiles loved it, and Derek liked seeing him tucked up with a book, or daydreaming out the window. He pictured it a lot when he got worried, pictured Stiles curled up in the window instead of wandering around town.

Derek sat down opposite him, and Stiles took his hands.

“It’s just for a month,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded. Silence was heavy with the things they both knew but didn’t want to say. _They won’t work. I don’t want to take them. I don’t want to give them to you._

“Just one month,” Stiles said again. “Then we can go back and tell him...tell him what happens.”

“We don’t know what will happen yet,” Derek pointed out.

“Exactly. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Derek tried to smile, but they’d been through enough pills to have a pretty good guess at what they’ll be like.

Stiles squeezed his hand. “You have to make me keep taking them.”

“Stiles--” Derek protested.

“Derek, please. We both know that at some point I’ll probably try to stop, but then he can just say I wasn’t giving them enough time to work and I’ll have to start over,” Stiles insisted. “I’m telling you now, while I’m me, that I’m agreeing to this. I need to take them, Derek. I’m sorry I need you to help me.”

“No, Stiles. Please, don’t be sorry,” Derek said. “I’ll help, I promise.” He pulled Stiles closer and rested their foreheads together. Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s shirt. Derek tried to capture as much of his scent as possible before it would be muddled by the drugs, but it was hard to get past the dread rolling off of him.

“Come to bed,” Stiles whispered. And Derek did, because he knew it might be the last chance they had to be together for the next month.

***

Scott greeted his mother with a warm hug and welcomed her into the house. “What’s new?” He asked over his shoulder as he went to get the tea he’d brewed her from the kitchen.

“I wanted to run something by you,” she said. “You know that werewolf? Deputy Hale?”

“Of course,” Scott said, handing her the cup. “Why?’

“He put in a request at the hospital. He’s looking for a home nurse for the next three weeks. From the hours, I’d say he wants someone there whenever he isn’t.” Melissa said. 

Scott frowned, “What for? Allison said he hasn’t been to work in a few days.” 

“Something to do with his boyfriend. There wasn’t a lot of details beyond that he isn’t violent and how much it pays,” Melissa said. “I was thinking I could take the job. I won’t be able to cover all the hours, but I could do a lot.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Scott said.

“Deputy Hale seems nice, and so does Stiles. The money is good, and…” Melissa shrugged. “Maybe it will help them to have someone in the know about the supernatural.”

Scott nodded. “It’s up to you, but if he gives you any trouble--”

“I’ll be out of there,” Melissa said. “I’ll be fine, Scott, I know what I’m doing.”

***

Derek smoothed out his uniform nervously as he heard a car pull into the driveway. “Your nurse is here,” he told Stiles. 

Stiles looked at him blankly, then went back to staring down at the table. Derek counted to five to settle his nerves before he answered the door.

Melissa McCall had come highly recommended, and she had years of experience. That didn’t stop Derek from being nervous, but it did help a bit. She greeted him with a warm smile and a firm handshake and followed him to the kitchen.

Stiles didn’t look up when they entered.

“I’m not sure if you’ve met Stiles, but...here he is,” Derek said awkwardly. “Stiles, this is Melissa. She’s going to hang out with you for a bit, okay?”

Stiles looked up at him in confusion for a second, then nodded.

“I already gave him his medications, so you don’t have to worry about that. There’s spaghetti in the fridge. He needs to eat as much of it as possible but he probably won’t tell you he’s hungry. If he does, that’s great, he can have it then.” Derek explained. “If it’s too hot, or too cold, he won’t tell you that either, so…”

“I’ll be careful,” Melissa assured him. “I have your contact information, as well as the Sheriff’s and Deputy Parrish. In fact, Deputy Argent-McCall is my daughter-in-law.”

“Oh,” Derek said, and mentally kicked himself for not noticing the smell of werewolf on her sooner. “Is that...does your son know you took the position?”

Melissa nodded. “He knows. It’s not a problem. In fact, I thought it would be easier for you to have someone you don’t have to hide things from.”

Derek smiled warily, and his phone chimed to remind him to get to work. He sat down next to Stiles and took his hand. “Hey, babe, I have to go to work.”

“You’re leaving?” Stiles said.

“Just for a little while. For work,” Derek repeated. 

Stiles smiled. “To catch the villain.”

“Uh-huh,” Derek said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Be safe,” Stiles said, then he squeezed Derek’s hand again and his eyes started drifting away.

Derek kissed his temple and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “Thanks for coming,” he said to Melissa.

“Anytime,” she replied.

***

Erica twitched her nose when the door chimed, checking to see if it was a familiar enough scent that she didn’t have to rush out. She recognized the scent of Hale easily, but something was off. His boyfriend usually smelled bright, and citrusy, but today it was dull and too sweet.

She ducked out of the back room and headed for their usual table. Instead of talking animatedly like he usually did, Stiles was staring blankly at the wall while Derek gently removed his coat for him and maneuvered him onto the bench.

“Hey, you two,” she said cheerfully. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” About two and a half weeks, she thought. Far longer than they'd ever gone before. “I was starting to think you got tired of us.” She teased.

Derek smiled tensely. “Stiles hasn’t been feeling well. He hasn’t been very hungry, so I thought he might like to come by.”

“Sure,” Erica said. “Can’t beat the good stuff, right? You want the usual?”

“Sure,” Derek said. “Thanks.”

Erica put the order in quickly and watched them out of the corner of her eye. There was no I Spy today, no twenty questions, and Stiles didn’t exclaim over the new holiday decorations or tell Derek outlandish stories. He just sat there, staring blankly ahead. Derek kept an arm around his shoulders, but that was all. No cuddling, no stolen kisses. Just an arm across the back of the bench and their fingers laced together.

She brought their food out and set it down with a flourish, but Stiles’ eyes didn’t light. He didn’t dig in and thank her with his mouth full. He just stared out the window like she wasn’t even there.

“Thanks, Erica,” Derek said quietly.

“No problem,” she said. She retreated to her corner, and listened as Derek tried to convince Stiles to eat.

“Please, Stiles, just try,” Derek pleaded. “You have to eat something. You love curly fries.”

Derek managed to coax Stiles into eating something, but when Erica came back to the table, there was only one bite taken out of his hamburger and a handful of fries missing. Derek’s meal hadn’t been touched at all.

“Do you need more time?” She asked awkwardly. Her timing was usually perfect.

“No, that’s fine,” Derek said.

“I’ll get it packed up for you,” Erica offered. “Do you want you pie today?”

Derek looked at Stiles for a second, his expression resigned. “I don’t think so.”

“Sure,” Erica said, cheerfully. She didn’t mention to Derek that she packed up two pieces with the rest of their food.

***

There was always a brief period of time as the last dose was wearing off and the next one hadn’t been administered yet that Stiles came back. Derek tried to soak up those moments as best he could. He didn’t waste them on trivial things like cable bills and small talk. 

Sometimes they’d just sit together, holding each other tightly, and other times Stiles would ask him about his job or how his week had been. Sometimes, Stiles would whisper, “I miss you,” and Derek’s heart would ache because he missed him too. 

Derek’s boyfriend wasn’t there that month. Only a hollow medicated shell that looked like him.

Today, Stiles didn’t have much of a lucid period, but when he heard the alarm for his pill go off, he got up and backed away.

“Come on, Stiles, please,” Derek said. He'd been waiting for this. It was getting harder to get Stiles to swallow, so he wasn’t surprised. That didn’t make it any easier.

By the time Melissa walked in, Derek had Stiles on the ground, struggling beneath him. He was trying to bite Derek’s hand instead of swallow the stupid, awful pill. Her appearance distracted Derek enough that Stiles managed to connect and Derek’s finger started bleeding, and he had to plug Stiles’ nose to force force the pill down.

Probably not exactly what they taught her in nursing school.

Derek let go as soon as the pill was down, and backed off to give Stiles some space, but Stiles twisted around, grabbed Derek’s shirt and pulled him closer, panting against his chest.

Derek’s finger healed and he was grateful that at least Melissa wouldn’t freak out about that.

“Feeling lively today?” She asked.

Derek couldn’t meet her eyes. “I promised I’d help him take them.”

“That must have been hard. Why does he need them if they aren’t helping?”

Derek laughed, humourlessly. “His doctor is...Stiles doesn’t really like him and I think he hates Stiles right back. He has this policy that all his patients have to try a new medication for at least a month before he’ll take them off again, unless they have a life threatening reaction. If Stiles doesn’t cooperate with therapy, they’ll send him to an institution.”

“But they still don’t know what’s causing the...delusions?” Melissa asked, carefully.

“No, they don’t,” Derek said bitterly.

“But you do.” It wasn’t said harshly, or judgmentally, but Derek could tell she noticed more than she let on. 

Derek leaned down to kiss Stiles’ forehead and got to his feet. “I need to get to work.”

***

Erica popped her head into the kitchen, “Boyd, are you gonna do more key lime pie today?”

Boyd shrugged.

“Hale called, and he wanted to know if we have some,” she said, popping her gum.

“We still have a few pieces, don’t we?” Boyd said, using his metal spatula to slide some grease off the grill.

“He wants a whole pie,” Erica said. Boyd looked over with mild surprise. “Maybe Stiles is feeling better and they want to celebrate?”

“You sent them with some pie last time, right?” Boyd said.

Erica nodded. The were both silent for a second, then she said, “If he’s still not eating…”

“I’ll make him a pie,” Boyd assured her. 

When Hale came to pick up the pies, Erica sent him with two.

***

It took a few days after Derek convinced Dr. Harris to let them stop the medication for Stiles to get back to himself. Everything was hazy and confusing at first, but eventually Derek had his boyfriend back, unfiltered. 

He offered to take Stiles anywhere to celebrate, but he turned down a fancy night out in favour of the diner. According to Stiles, just because it wasn’t the _same_ diner didn’t mean it wasn’t their special place.

The bell above the door gave a cheerful jingle and Stiles waved to Erica as he made a beeline for his favourite booth. Derek slid into his own seat and smiled quietly while Stiles exclaimed over the holiday decorations Erica had put up. He didn’t point out that they'd been there when they came in last week. They'd already established that Stiles couldn't remember that.

Erica came over quickly, and greeted them with a bright, “Hey!”

“Erica,” Stiles exclaimed. “I missed you so much!”

Erica’s bright smile faltered for a second with confusion, but she didn’t point out that he’d seen her just last week.“Me or my food?”

Stiles laughed. “Both, obviously.”

Erica smirked. “You want your usuals, then?”

“Usual and something extra to celebrate,” Stiles said. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon. What would you recommend?”

“Fried zucchini is good,” Erica said and Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I’d go with the stuffed mushrooms, they’re Boyd’s specialty.”

Stiles quirked an eyebrow at Derek.

“Sounds good,” Derek said. He didn’t really care about the food. He was only here to watch Stiles.

Erica left the table to put their order in, and Stiles tapped his fingers against the table.

“How would you eat a dragon anyway? Would you be able to cook the skin or would it be too hard? Could you even get through the skin to cook it? Or would fire just roll off?” Stiles asked. “If you did cook it, would it taste like chicken, because it flies, or beef? Or bison?”

“Have you had bison?” Derek asked. 

“No, but I haven’t had dragon either,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

“I ate kangaroo once,” Derek said easily.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and off he went again. A dozen questions, peppered together in a stream of consciousness. Derek didn’t bother to even try to answer most of them. He just listened, and watched, and breathed in the unmuddled scent of his love. 

***

Erica tapped her fingers along her arm and waited for her pack to go through the meeting agenda. When they'd talked about everything they had planned to, she said, “I want to talk about Stiles.”

“Did he get into trouble again?” Allison asked with a frown.

“Not that I know of.” Erica waved her hand to dismiss Allison’s concern. “Melissa hasn’t told us much--”

“Patient confidentiality, Erica,” Melissa interjected.

“I know that, but we all know something's been up the past month. What if giving Stiles the bite would help fix whatever’s happening?”

“It can’t fix everything, Erica,” Scott said.

“But it might be something it could,” Erica insisted. “Like a chemical imbalance or a disease.”

“If the bite could fix it, wouldn’t Hale’s alpha have already given him the bite?” Isaac asked.

“Maybe they don’t get along,” Allison said. “He moved here, didn’t he?”

“He doesn’t smell like an omega though,” Scott said.

“Omega is different from not getting along,” Allison replied. “Maybe his alpha is a purist.”

Considering that all of them had been bitten, there was a fairly loud grumble at the idea that Hale’s unknown alpha was one of the werewolves that believed only born weres should exist.

“We shouldn’t jump into anything,” Isaac said. “Even if Scott agrees to offer him the bite, which might not work or he might not want. We should wait for Lydia.”

Scott nodded. “She’ll know if the bite would actually help.”

Erica smiled to herself. If Scott was talking like that, it meant her point had been made and he was willing to try and help Stiles.

***

Derek reached into the back seat to grab the bundt cake Stiles had made before exiting the car. Stiles bounced out of the passenger seat and put his arm through Derek’s as they walked to the front door.

Derek had been skirting around the McCall pack since he arrived in Beacon Hills, and though he’d known he would have to face them eventually, he still wasn’t looking forward to it. They’d been friendly so far, especially with their invitation to a pack BBQ, but their hospitality could turn on a dime and Derek needed to keep Stiles in Beacon Hills. 

McCall opened the front door shortly after their knock, wearing a broad smile and a Kiss the Cook apron. “Come on in,” he said, stepping back.

Derek was pulled up short by Stiles before he could comply. _Shit_ , Derek thought, his heart sinking. He looked over and Stiles was staring fixedly at a spot at the top of the door frame. “Stiles?”

“You can’t go through there, it’s not safe,” Stiles said.

“Why, Stiles?” Derek asked patiently. McCall frowned and Derek tried not to feel awkward under his gaze.

“Mistletoe, Derek,” Stiles said, pointing. “You can’t go in there.”

Derek took a deep breath. “Stiles, why would an alpha werewolf have mistletoe in his doorway?”

“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet,” Scott pointed out.

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe someone else put it there. Has someone threatened you recently?” Stiles always said these things so convincingly. Like he was here to help and he could handle whatever was thrown at him. Like he used to.

Scott shook his head and looked to Derek for guidance.

“Stiles,” Derek started.

Stiles turned to him mouth in a thin line. “You don’t see it.”

“I don’t,” Derek said softly.

“You can’t see it or smell it or hear it rustling,” Stiles said.

“Nothing,” Derek confirmed. 

Stiles nodded, looking back up to the same spot. “It’s not there, then.”

“No, it’s not,” Derek said, projecting a calmness he didn’t feel calmly. In fact, he felt like punching through a wall.

“Right,” Stiles said. He was always good about believing Derek, even when his own eyes played tricks on him. Stiles stepped through the door quickly, tugging Derek in and shutting the door firmly behind them.

“So,” McCall said, fiddling with the strings of his apron.

Stiles beamed at him. “Thanks for inviting us, Alpha McCall, that was really nice of you.”

“Uh, call me Scott. Come on back.”

Stiles chatted with Scott while they followed him to the kitchen, as if nothing had happened at the doorway. 

“And you’ve both met my wife, Allison.”

“Yep,” Stiles said. “Nicest cop that ever nearly arrested me.”

Allison gaped at him a bit. “Oh, um, thank you?”

Stiles smiled. “We brought cake.”

The cake was happily accepted and they were ushered outside. Introductions were made of any pack members they hadn’t met yet and burgers were dished out. For the most part, the McCall pack was just as friendly here as they'd been in passing, but Derek couldn’t quite relax. The curvy redhead Scott introduced as Lydia stared at Stiles all night, like he was a puzzle to be solved. Her bright, calculating gaze made Derek feel uneasy and protective. 

She clearly wasn’t a wolf, and she smelled human, but there was something otherworldly about her.

The mystery was solved when Stiles turned to her and said, “You're a banshee.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

“I guessed,” Stiles said through a mouthful of cake. “If you say things with conviction, people treat you less like a crazy person.”

Derek flinched. “Stiles.”

“Derek, just because you and I know I’m not crazy doesn’t mean other people do,” Stiles said. “She’s staring at me, so either she thinks I’m insane or she knows something I don’t.”

Lydia leaned back. “You aren’t crazy. You aren’t sick. But you see things that aren’t there.”

“See them, hear them, smell them even,” Stiles said easily. “Giant pain in the ass.”

“And you don’t keep it a secret,” Lydia continued.

“Nope, can’t,” he said with a shrug.

“Why?” Scott asked.

“Fairies,” Stiles said. “Those guys have tempers like you wouldn’t believe. One of them decided I was shit at keeping secrets because I refused to look the other way when she murdered a guy who rejected her. So she made it so I couldn’t keep secrets at all. I’m compelled to tell people about the things I see. Even the things that aren't real. Of which there are plenty, because I guess she couldn’t just leave me to find my own trouble.” Stiles shrugged. “I used to spend a lot of time talking with supernatural beings, learning about them, helping them solve problems, but now I can’t find the line between reality and my imagination. It’s hard to form connections when you're not sure if someone actually exists.”

“Huh,” Lydia said, eyes bright with interest. “Why don’t you get the curse reversed?”

Stiles quirked one eyebrow at her. “I haven’t run into another fairy.”

“Can’t your pack emissary do it?” Scott asked hopefully.

“I don’t have an emissary,” Derek said. At Scott’s disbelieving look, he rolled his eyes and elaborated. “My pack is only me and my sister. She’s in New York and not looking to expand, so it’s just Stiles and me.”

Scott deflated. “Oh.”

“Isn’t there something else that can be done?” Allison asked.

Derek and Stiles both shook their heads. There was nothing they could do but keep on trying. 

Lydia scoffed. “Of course there is.” 

Stiles stiffened and Derek suppressed a growl. It wouldn’t be a good plan to insult the McCall pack by lashing out, but it was unfair of her to dangle hope in front of them like that. 

“I researched everything I could,” Stiles said. “There's no way to--”

“You didn’t research me,” Lydia said blithely. “Wait here.” She strolled into the house, leaving them to stare after her. Everyone waited in awkward silence for her to return. She breezed back into the yard with a large old book in hand. She flipped through it quickly, manicured nails scritching against the pages. “Let’s see here. Ah, yes.”

She placed two fingers under Stiles’ chin, tilting his head up to look at her. She immediately began chanting in a language Derek couldn’t understand but suspected was a form of Latin. 

Derek watched them, gripped with indecision. Part of him wanted to rip Stiles away from her, while the other wanted to push him closer to ensure the enchantment worked. He had no reason to believe the McCall pack would do them harm, but he didn’t know Lydia, and Stiles was the most precious thing in his world. 

Lydia ended her incantation and Derek felt the air sizzle around them, then pop like a burst bubble. 

No one moved for a second, then Scott asked, “Was that it?” Allison shushed him harshly.“What? Kind of anticlimactic, don’t you think?”

“Do you think it worked?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

Lydia scoffed. “Of course, it worked. I’m an excellent spell craftsmen.”

“I’m not doubting your skill,” Stiles said. “I just…” He turned to Derek uncertainly.

“We’ve been dealing with this for so long,” Derek finished for him, linking their hands.

“Well, it’s done now, you can carry on with your lives,” Lydia said.

“No more drugs,” Stiles said quietly. “Dr. Harris.”

“You’ll still have to see him, but we can make up an explanation for your recovery,” Derek said. The idea of being out from under that asshole doctor’s thumb was even more exciting than the prospect of no more hallucinations.

“More cake anyone?” Erica asked. The conversation and laughter started up again, the tense moment finished.

Suddenly, Stiles slumped beside Derek. “It didn’t work,” he said sadly.

“What do you mean?” Lydia said irritably.

“I can see a basilisk on the back fence,” Stiles explained.

Derek followed his gaze and jumped to his feet. “Shit. That _is_ a basilisk.”

Everyone exploded into action. Lydia grabbed Stiles’ wrist and pulled him after her into the house. The Sheriff rushed Melissa inside with them, his arm tucked protectively around her waist. 

The basilisk hissed and gnashed its teeth, venom dripping from its fangs as it lunged toward Isaac.

Derek shifted alongside the McCall pack, and Scott led the charge against the beast. Derek was surprised how easy it felt to move with them, moving forward to strike, then falling back and knowing someone else would take his place. He had no idea what Parrish even was, but he held his own, and it was second nature to block any strikes against Allison while she wielded her bow with precision and fury.

When the basilisk lay dead at their feet, Scott patted Derek on the back and said, “Good job, dude. You fit in well.”

“I didn’t really--” Derek started, but Erica cut him off.

“High five, guys, yay us!” She said, raising her hands.

“Is it gone?” Stiles shouted through the backdoor.

Derek looked down at the bloody heap and then back at Stiles. “Yep.”

Stiles bounded down the stairs. “Did you know basilisks don’t reproduce? They’re all intentionally created.”

“Why the hell would you want one of those around?” Isaac asked, staring at Stiles. Stiles elaborated as the pack laughed and joked around them. The disposal of the basilisk’s corpse was a collaborative and surprisingly quick process, with everyone working together. Stiles provided “entertaining” commentary. 

Derek ended up with blood on his favourite shirt, but he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset about it, because Stiles was just so...Stiles. All his thoughts were his own. No unseen beings caught his attention, and he didn’t say anything that he didn’t want to. He still rambled and raved like he always had, but it was different. He had more focus and he seemed more present in the moment than he had in months. 

Everything seemed bright with possibilities, like the first time they’d met. A whole future of new stories and friends they could share. 

Stiles was back. Derek wouldn’t say he was normal. Just himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my awesome beta team for all their work on this, especially [ChloeWeird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWeird)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(What is it Like) To Be Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204266) by [LessonsFromMoths](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessonsFromMoths/pseuds/LessonsFromMoths)




End file.
